Tag Archives: anxiety

I So Latey

Lasagne in the oven having heat thrown at it in order to make it tasty. Chocolates via delivery thanks to my splendid friend Colette (who is happy birthdaying today). Various groceries courtesy of my awesome cousin Lisa who dropped them … Continue reading

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If I’m not moved into a cupboard today then I’m guessing my current location is the last hopstical location of this stay, a stay which will end tomorrow when I will be moving into a cupboard outside of the hopstical. … Continue reading

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Oh Look, Another Insomniac Shitpost

I can’t tell if tonight’s insomnia is just another episode in a three week-long saga of broken nights and lost days or whether it is special in its own right because I’m anxious about a visit to the doctor’s surgery … Continue reading

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Check One Two, One, One Two

Looking back at my journal and some blog posts from last year I see it is roughly twelve months since I hit rock bottom and felt old, familiar, self-destructive inclinations rise to the surface after some calmer years. There were … Continue reading

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He Didn’t Start The Fire…Or So He Says

I’m not a personal friend of Billy Joel so I can’t call him up in the middle of the night and ask if he would sing that line “In the middle of the night” from one of his songs to … Continue reading

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A Tasty Yellow Beef

With this 2019 business being almost one third of the way done it’s safe to say I’m a much bigger fan of it so far than I was of its bastard sibling, 2018. Some things remain the same, those things … Continue reading

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Oh Levels

In my dream last night the handbrake of my car was faulty, meaning I kept rolling downwards on a hill of San Francisco style steepness. A suitable metaphor for my waking life. Why can’t dreams be an escape? Why do … Continue reading

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“Sharp scratch.” Yes, it’s that time of year, folks, the flu-shot experience, the brief encounter with a needle in the upper arm which always makes me pine for the double entendre days when the person doing the injection used to … Continue reading

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Cave Of Shadows

Eight days on from the news of my father’s death I find myself in uncharted waters. As I grapple with the need to forgive a ghost and lay some of my own ghosts to rest I am barely held together … Continue reading

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Angry Oval

The vomit, the vomit. Could be the name of a punk band. It isn’t. Could be a quote from a Radiohead song. It is but that’s not entirely why I’ve opened this post with those words. Just as my more … Continue reading

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